A Blossom in the Snow
by Scarlett Eternity
Summary: [oneshot] It seemed as if it’d always be winter, no light, no hope. No love. But sometimes, just sometimes, unexpected things happen, and flowers bloom in winter.


A Blossom in the Snow

Summary: oneshot It seemed as if it'd always be winter, no light, no hope. No love. But sometimes, just sometimes, unexpected things happen, and flowers bloom in winter.

Rating: G

Warnings: None, really. o.o;;; 'cept that it's fluffy het. ::sweatdrops:: (Which may be a warning in itself)

Disclaimer: Harvest moon © Natsume. It's obviously not mine, I'm just borrowing a few of the characters for my own dastardly purposes.

A/N: ...I can't believe I'm writing this, actually oo; Yeah, I hate Christmas specials and this feels oddly like one. Must be the FMwS music I'm listening to. ::grumbles::

I really don't like this one. Oh, and this is 64-verse, just so there's no confusion.

Yes, this sounds like the Mist flower event changed XD; I have low creativity.

Edit: Thanks to a temporary beta, some minor errors fixed.

--

Grey.

What an appropriate name, for it was how he felt, how he perceived the world to be.

Like an old picture show, his life was black and white, and without audio. Just the stark contrast of black and white, restful mundane

Still, faintly, he could remember how it was when the sun still shone brightly, before the clouds choked out the sun.

The light had gone out of his life with that resounding 'thud.'

With that cherished dreams of winning races and becoming famous were shattered.

With that, his face turned as dour as his name.

He became withdrawn, surly.

It wasn't just emotional pain, he was often racked by physical pain, so much that he'd be confined to bed for days.

Winter was always the worst.

The pain in his back would flair up so badly that after finishing chores, he'd sink by the fireplace drinking cocoa and stare blankly at the burning wood, watching it blacken and fade, brunt into nothing.

Like himself, a shell of a man, he kept on, trying to find something to be fulfilling for the emptiness caused by the loss of dreams.

Usually, he'd refuse to take the medicine, but in winter, the pain was overwhelming, forcing him to put away his stubborn pride if he wished to be able to even get out of bed.

There was one other hope in his life, but it was snatched away, a beautiful flower he didn't deserve.

Once he dreamed of being close to this person, but now it seemed a foolish fantasy.

What could he offer her? Nothing. Only the mediocre life and the ghosts of the broken dreams that haunted the ranch, hiding in shadows and covered mirrors and faded photographs hidden under useless antiques. Out of sight, out of mind.

Pretend to be happy. Pretend to smile. Pretend to forget.

But he_ couldn't_.

He watched as this beautiful person was slowly taken, silently watching, happy to see her brilliant smiles, but desperately wishing they were directed at him.

And wasn't that right? She should have someone to keep her smiling. A someone who had dreams, hope, someone who was _alive_. Not him, the exanimate son of a rancher.

The one that people resorted to off-color language to describe, when it was supposed he couldn't hear.

Of course it didn't hurt, for _surely _he was only made of unfeeling ice.

_Surely._

Stolidly he sat within the confines in his own house, watching the fire burn while an earth-toned afghan covered his legs - a gift from Ann.

Caroler's were at the door, but he made no move to open it, no acknowledgment of their unwanted presence.

Hope was not welcome here, their songs only brought a certain agony. To dream when you only fall, it was torture.

And joyous songs of happiness, hope, and love were not a thing he wished to hear. Each moment, wishing they would leave him be, to stop singing saccharine-coated lies.

He did not want to _pretend_

--

And the days passed, it got closer and closer to Christmas.

Relieved for it to almost be over, he set his sights on finishing things, anything to distract himself from the fake smiles and fake happiness that abounded in this falsely cheer atmosphere

And even this place, this ranch, there was the _pretend._ Lights now adorned the house and a small Christmas tree sat in the foyer of the shop, filled with pale lights that shone and illuminated the usually dank and almost gloomy room.

After chores, he trudged onwards to get the mail. Just a few days now. If he was lucky, he'd be able to fake a sickness and skip everything all together.

But no, that would mean enduring Ann's cooking, something that made him shudder at the thought.

No, he could endure it, just four more painstakingly fake days, then it'd be over and he'd be spared until next year.

Uninterestedly, he went though the large stack of mail with it's usual assortment of bills and Christmas cards, just as he was about to go in and put away the mail, he saw the last letter in the large stack.

From the flower shop, he could recognize the delicate yet sensuous scent of flowers and potpourri.

And he could recognize the cute handwriting, all I's dotted with a small heart, a small smiley face on the side.

_Hi Grey♡_

_I've got something to show you_

_Recently we got a package from dad, a special flower. I meant to show you, but you were always out, so I didn't get a chance to. _

_It'll be blooming soon, tomorrow. Meet me there, 6:00 sharp, it'll be opening at dawn_

_Popuri ♡_

In disbelief, he reread it again and again, as if to look for holes, something to prove this was a cruel trick, some prank, a hoax. But no, it beared the familiar fragrance of the flower shop, contained her familiar handwriting - he knew it from the precious few notes she'd left, even routine things such as receipts, all these he kept as reminders of her smile, her lovely smile.

Then his mind went back to the times she'd visited, little pieces of heaven with her smile, her praises of his garden, all the times she'd visited, even if they seemed superficial,

and most of all, her smile. It could chill him to the bone, while simultaneously making his face burn.

He eyed the note, it had to be false somehow, somewhere there was a _pretend_.

--

Anxiously he paced the floor waiting for the clock to turn. It seemed as if time stood still, refusing to budge from that moment.

Though he'd managed to somehow sleep in the restless night that had ensued.

Somewhere between the tossing and turning he'd found the solace in the submergence of sleep.

But momentary, only momentary.

Now, he waited for it to be time, finally, in disgust and impatience, he put on a coat and set out.

The dark was suffocating, only a hint of light peeked over the treetops, and the moon only shone faintly though the thick clouds.

His breath created ethereal silvery clouds. Almost artistic, he mused. But he was hardly a poet.

Refusing to pace any longer, he went on to the gate and waited, willing time to move faster, wishing to see her profile illuminated by dawn, sunlight and snowflakes giving her vibrant hair a halo of luminescence.

His reverie was broken by a feminine giggle and a low "You're early"

Blushing to the roots of his strawberry-blonde hair, he murmured excuses, avoiding her eyes, missing the amused expression, and the sparkle in her eyes.

"Shall we go?"

Simply nodding, he silently followed, to the base of the mountain, left to the goddess spring.

Although covered in snow, the mild gurgling of the Goddess Spring could still be heard, as it never truly froze. Perhaps it's supposed magical origins played a role in this.

There, as if a scarlet stain upon the snow, was the flower. It's small petals splayed outwards.

Truly beautiful, it wasn't without dangers, as thorns surrounded it's stem, beauty with pain.

Awed by it's beauty, he could only stammer.

"How...?"

Smiling, she replied.

"I had papa ship it - as a special order. It's a foreign flower that only blooms mid-winter."

Quietly, he stared the scarlet colored flower. Musing how it contrasted with the pure white of the snow.

It seemed as if somewhere in his monochrome existence, a drop of color had appeared.

As if spilled ink on film, it was _color _in a world of nothing but grey and black.

"It's really cold, do you mind if I get closer?"

Not waiting for a response, she slid closer, just enough so he could clearly hear the soft sound of her breathing, smell the faint scent of flowers from her soft tresses.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"...Very."

They stood there for a time, not saying anything, just, existing.

Deep within, it felt as if this would break him. No, he couldn't take this...

Just as he made a move to leave, her voice stopped him. Sirens song to the ship, surely.

"Grey, please don't leave yet. I want to talk to you about something..."

"...Yes?"

Heart pulsing. What to say? What to do? This must be it. She's getting married to someone else.

She took a deep breath, then looked at him seriously.

"I want you to be happy. I know you lost your dreams, but sometimes you make new dreams. I want to see you smiling again."

He was silent. Stolidly regarding her pleading eyes. How could he be happy? He'd lost everything.

"Please... Will you try? For me...?"

His mouth felt dry, unable to formulate the words he desperately wish to say.

Tears formed at the corners of her eyes.

"I just want you to be happy..." trailing off, her gaze shifted.

Still silence hung in the air, like a burial shroud, he was still unable to revive the words that died.

Still, he felt frozen to the ground, immobile.

Staring at her, now sobbing, something clicked from within the incoherency.

Finally, as if finding a miracle cure for lockjaw, his lips quivered, moving enough to form the simple words.

"I'll try."

With that, her tears ceased, then she smiled. Radiant, like the sun coming out after rain.

Without warning, she flew into his arms, hugged him tightly, then pressed a kiss to his already burning cheek.

"Thank you!"

It seemed impossible that his cheeks could get any redder, but they did, his pulse rising, heart beating like a wild bird entrapped in a cage.

And in a moment it was over, she broke the embrace and yelled an apology as she ran off, citing unfinished chores and the explanations she'd have to come up with if not home in time.

He watched as she left, pink hair flying as she airily skipped off

Aimlessly, He stayed with the flower a moment longer, letting this sink in, his face as scarlet as the graceful flower before him.

Shielding his eyes, he left.

The clouds had receded, and sunlight shone brilliantly reflected by the snow-covered ground.

He pressed a trembling finger to where she'd kissed him, as if to assure that this was real, not just another dream.

And.. He smiled.

Sometimes, the unexpected happens. And sometimes, flowers bloom in winter.

_-fin-_

--

So it kinda fell apart in the end, sorry. I'm not good writing fluff. Or dialogue for that matter.

Anyways, Happy Holidays, everyone -


End file.
